


where you don’t see me

by Of_Storms_and_Saints



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Drabble Collection, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 19:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Storms_and_Saints/pseuds/Of_Storms_and_Saints
Summary: The Arishok duel leaves a lot of unsaid words between Aristea Hawke and Isabela.(A series of drabbles, all exactly 200 words.)





	1. Chapter 1

'Why did you duel for me?'

There's still blood on the tiles. Isabela can pinpoint exactly where the Viscount's head bounced. Small, eerily round, crimson stains. Nothing compared to the large splattering at the bottom of the stairs.  
The Arishok had a bigger head. It still bled. Bounced. Was carted away with the rest of his body.

Aristea is sitting on the steps, her greatsword between her legs, tip on the floor, hands gripped tightly around the hilt, head resting on the pommel.  
In this quiet, early morning light, Isabela can finally take her in.  
There are bags under her eyes, not unusual, but she has a new scar through her eyebrow, and irritated red veins creep through the whites of her eyes. Her long hair is gone, now a messy _**mop**_; wild, sticking out at every angle.  
Aristea doesn't look up, breathing deliberate and slow, gaze unwavering from the blood encrusted on her blade.

Isabela focuses back on the floor.

'Why did you duel for me?'

'Why did you return?'

The only answer is a gust of wind whistling through the broken windows.

Aristea's gaze doesn't stray from her bloodied blade as Isabela turns and slips out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

'I told you to stay safe,' Bethany is curled up in an armchair near the fire, legs hanging over an arm, 'and you fought the fucking Arishok.'

The fire dances happily as Aristea walks over, two mugs of spiced milk in her hands, and a large grin on her face, 'I wish I could say I was surprised.'

Bethany takes a mug. Aristea drops to sit cross-legged on the floor, 'Meredith looked like she was about to burst into flames when I told her that you were going to spend the night.'

Bethany waits for Maba to pad across the floor and drop his head into Aristea's lap before she speaks, 'But she _couldn't_ refuse _The Champion of Kirkwall!_'

'Call me that again and I'll launch Maba at you. I didn’t fight for that _hideous_ title.'

Bethany’s voice is soft. ‘I know.’

For a while, neither speak, happy to sip their milk, and let the fire crackle in the absence of their voices.

Then, just as the sun begins to peek through the curtains, Bethany looks at her sister gently, 'How's Isabela?'

Aristea pushes Maba off her and stands, 'The milk was nice, but I think we're due for breakfast.'


End file.
